


Gone

by Athetos



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Internal Thoughts, set immediately after ending of princess prom, with a hopeful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athetos/pseuds/Athetos
Summary: At first, Adora was relieved to know that Catra had survived the fall.  But as the ship rose higher through the mist, her heart only sank lower.  Through the glass, she could see Glimmer and Bow, both unconscious and badly bruised, their suit and dress ripped to shreds.  Glimmer’s hair was matted with dried blood, and there was a gash on Bow’s arm that looked swollen and red.  Worst of all, however, was the way Catra possessively wrapped herself around the two hostages, the nails of one hand digging into Bow’s shoulder, while the other combed through Glimmer’s snarled hair.  All with that self-satisfied grin on her face, that grin that said “everything you love is mine now.”That grin that said “This is only the beginning for you, but the end for them.”
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Say_Anything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_Anything/gifts).



> This fic was for a request I got over on tumblr, from my good friend  Say_Anything. Please check out her fics - right now she's nearing the end of her fankid fic,  Heart of Courage  and just posted an  epilogue  for No Strings Attached. They're absolutely worth the read if you have the time!
> 
> This is set immediately following Princess Prom in season 1.
> 
> Contains warnings for: mentions of blood and violence, toxic/abusive behaviors

It was funny, in a weird way.

Here Adora was, dangling from an impossibly tall cliff, her weight being held by a single hairpin, and all of her thoughts were on the safety of her _friends,_ not herself. 

Glimmer... Bow...

_”This has never been a game to me.”_

She had underestimated Catra... and it was in this moment that she realized she may never have known the magicat after all. What she had mistaken for juvenile, reckless behavior was actually a carefully composed step in a cunning master plan. She was so used to being the leader, so used to having the dubious honor of being Shadow Weaver’s favorite and making all the hard decisions, that she had failed to notice that Catra was an equally capable commander, who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

And what she wanted was to make Adora hurt.

_At first, Adora was relieved to know that Catra had survived the fall. But as the ship rose higher through the mist, her heart only sank lower. Through the glass, she could see Glimmer and Bow, both unconscious and badly bruised, their suit and dress ripped to shreds. Glimmer’s hair was matted with dried blood, and there was a gash on Bow’s arm that looked swollen and red. Worst of all, however, was the way Catra possessively wrapped herself around the two hostages, the nails of one hand digging into Bow’s shoulder, while the other combed through Glimmer’s snarled hair. All with that self-satisfied grin on her face, that grin that said “everything you love is **mine** now.” _

_That grin that said “This is only the beginning for you, but the end for them.”_

Her own heart felt like it was being crushed by those terrible claws, blood spurting from between her former friend’s fingers. Every time she found something she loved, Catra did everything in her power to take it away from her. Sometimes, Adora wondered if it would be easier for the magicat to just break her hands, to stop her from reaching for anything that wasn’t her ever again. She had no idea that Catra would be willing to take away not just _anything_ , but _anyone._

Glimmer... Bow... the first two people to welcome her to the Rebellion. The first two people who opened her eyes to the reality of the Horde, and the horrible lies she had been told since birth. The first _friends_ she had ever made outside of her squadron. They had taught her how to eat cotton candy, how to ride a horse, and how to play hide and seek. They had held her through her nightmares, and wiped away her tears. They had taught her that love was not something you earned, but something you deserved; that loving someone didn’t have to _hurt._

She’d never be able to forgive herself if anything happened to them. She knew exactly what the Horde was capable of, what _Shadow Weaver_ was capable of... The images of a crying Bow being trapped behind bars, his memories being erased and rewritten by the masked sorceress, and of a helpless Glimmer, howling in pain as her magic - her _life-force_ \- was slowly leached from her, cut Adora deeper than any sword. She closed her eyes, hoping to block out everything but the nauseating feeling of her body swaying back and forth in the cool breeze, but the visions of her friends being tortured just came back stronger. She could almost smell the metallic tang of their blood, bright and red against the floor of a filthy prison cell. Bow’s limbs were twisted into impossible angles, and Glimmer’s eyes were blank and unseeing, the galaxies of stars that usually filled them nowhere to be found -

She screamed as loud as she could, her voice cracking like dry wood. It was a strangled, twisted thing, coming from somewhere deep inside her chest. It tasted like iron and tears, and it’s faint echo mocked her, the wordless roar dampened by the trees. But it felt good, and so she did it again, and again.

Even if she managed to get to the Fright Zone, and infiltrated the castle, what would she do then? Even with the other princesses beside her, how could they possibly stand a chance against one of the most powerful sorceresses in Etheria, a dictator hellbent on annihilation, and a former friend with nothing left to lose? They’d wind up in the same cells as Glimmer and Bow, dirtied and manacled, never again seeing the light of day. Perfuma, aching for grass beneath her feet, her heart as withered as the trees outside Horror Hall... Mermista, yearning for the sea, her fighting spirit as dry as the Crimson Waste... Entrapta, missing her inventions, her curiosity as broken as the skiff she and Catra stole... Even little Frosta, longing for the comfort of a lost mother, her soul melting faster than the ice cream at Thaymor...

Glimmer and Bow were _gone_ because of her, and soon the rest of the Rebellion would be, too. 

It was all her fault. If she had never been promoted to Force Captain in the first place, or showed Catra the key to the skiff, or gave her the stupid idea of seeing the outside world - 

Wait, was... Was she really responsible for Catra’s actions? Shadow Weaver had spent her entire childhood drilling into her that everyone in her squad’s behaviors were her responsibility but... Was that really true? She couldn’t control how the magicat thought, or how she acted. She couldn’t make her care about other people, or accept the consequences of her actions...

Why should _she_ have to suffer for Catra’s behavior? 

Why should _anyone_ have to suffer for it?

The self-loathing swirling inside of her shrank into something bright and hot and fiery. No longer was her anger directed inwards, but _outwards,_ towards the person she had once loved more than anything else. The person who had _dared_ to hurt her friends. 

A world without Glimmer’s laugh, or Bow’s smile... A life without sparkly pink princesses or crop top wearing heroes...

It was unimaginable. 

So she wouldn’t imagine it. _Nobody_ would have to imagine it. 

Because she was getting them back, whether fate wanted her to or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - feel free to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed. My tumblr is athetos, if you want to see how you can request a fic of your own!


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